Just For Fun
by Minasien
Summary: My idea as the Icelanders deal with the second place.
1. Chapter 1

I would like to thank dribblestheturtle for her help :)

I've already uploaded this story in German in another forum.

dribblestheturtle was kind enough to translate the story into English for me. I'm really grateful for the help, becose my english ist not very good.

**Just For Fun**

Prologue

The tenseness in the air was incredible.

4:4

The next shoot was going to adjudicate upon everything.

On the one side the Icelanders; proud like their ancestors, nothing of the tenseness inside was showing on their faces.

On the other side the Ducks; excited and quietly chatting with each other. Every single one of their faces resembled the pressure that weighed on their shoulders.

Both coaches had a little amount of time to introduce their players for the shootout. While Wolf, what else could be expected, talked to his best man - Gunnar Stahl - Gordon did something strange: He talked to Julie. To the surprise of everyone in the rink said girl entered the ice not much later to thwart the Icelander. By hindsight Gordon's move definitely made sense. Julie never played a minute in the whole tournament so neither Wolf nor Gunnar knew her strong points nor her weaknesses. Gordon on the other side knew everything about Gunnar.

Even though there were hundreds of people in the rink who came to watch the game, it was completely silent when Gunnar picked up the puck and started the countdown for the end of the game. You could almost hear the hearts of every single player race, because it didn't matter who won the game: For one team this evening would be a big disappointment.

There just could be one winner.


	2. Chapter 2

Numbness.

Disappointment.

Shame.

Nothing else existed inside of him.

The screaming and cheering that came from the crowd left him completely cold. With a lowered gaze he left the ice and headed for the locker rooms. A quick shower, new clothes and then he and his team would have to face up to the journalists. He felt like throwing up. Maybe he should have done exactly that to avoid the press conference.

Maybe to avoid the questions...?

The gazes of his teammates followed him, paralyzed him, were a burden on him. How could he possibly walk with his head held high ever again? He let them down, every single one of them.

His forehead touched the cold metal of his locker. He failed. If he could, he would hide somewhere, but he couldn't.

The door of the locker room shut quietly.

Bad sign.

Wolf Stansson just closed the door quietly when he was angry. But could he, Gunnar Stahl, hold it against him? No. Stansson's whole career depended on this game. If they, no _he_ scored that goal, Wolf could have got into the act, meaning the NHL, again.

"Gunnar, go take a shower and change, you have 15 minutes." Wolf said to them. Against expectation their Coach didn't sound angry, rather tired.

So he had 15 minutes until they were going to torture him with their questions. Gunnar pressed his lips together and tried to suppress the shivers as good as he could.

_Don't show any weakness! _He thought, but that was easier said than done.

"Chin up, kid." A hand was placed on his shoulder, but through the pads he could barely feel it. Gunnar turned his head to find himself face to face with Olaf Sanderson, his best friend. The light blue eyes, the lightest ones Gunnar had ever seen, neither were squinted nor did his friend sound despiteful. Inquiring he looked at Olaf and waited for the first reproval. If it came out of his mouth, they would hurt Gunnar the most. He knew everyone on the team, but he knew Olaf since they both were babies. They grew up together and did everything together. Olaf was much more than a friend to him; he was like a brother. Gunnar still waited, but the spiteful comments, for which Olaf surely had the ability, were a long time coming.

"Do I have something in my face that makes you stare at me that way?" Olaf asked with a grin on his face. "No…" Gunnar looked away hastily.

Olaf's casual position didn't want to match the scene in the locker room. _We just lost the gold medal because of me._ Gunnar thought. But that was Olaf: even though he was the team's Captain and one of the best players on the team, he often upset everyone's plans. Sometimes he did it willingly, most of the time not even a bit, though. That usually happened in absolutely clear situations. You could be sure that Olaf does everything, just not what he's supposed to do.

This was one of those situations. Shouldn't Olaf be mad or at least be disappointed? Shouldn't he be yelling at Gunnar or at least be reproaching him?

Instead the tall blonde Icelander calmly got out of his jersey at first, then put off the pads. Damn, the loon even hummed some song! Gunnar stared at him stunned and so did the rest of the team.

"What?" Olaf asked as he recognized that he was the only one acting on Wolf's orders. "Guys, 15 minutes aren't much, come on, speed up!" Gunnar didn't know if Olaf was just acting as if he didn't feel the tenseness in the room or if he really didn't feel it.

Olaf's words were enough to break his teammate's numbness. They started undressing and loosened their view from poor Gunnar. The young man sighed silently and changed himself.

"Hey, Olaf, how's your head, by the way?" Leifur Amsalik asked. "My head's fine. Why would you be asking?" The blonde Viking stared at his teammate looking blank.

"Well, since that girl got you laid onto the ice… I'm just wondering." Gunnar wasn't the only one who held his breath. The tenseness in the locker room increased with every moment passing, it could be too much any moment now. Gunnar swallowed. It looked like Leifur wanted to vent his anger. But why would he pick Olaf as his victim? Latter had just put his jersey up and now turned around to face the other teenager fully.

"I can assure you that my head's completely fine and what concerns Miss Connie, the Duck Lady _who I got laid by_; it was an interesting experience. It seems like she doesn't appreciate me all too much, though." He did it again! Olaf didn't react the way Leifur expected him to at all.

"Olaf? I don't think you should say it that way." Wulfgang Seggi, their injured goalie, said.

"What shouldn't I say that way?"

"Well… That you got laid by her…" It took a moment for Olaf to get what Wulfgang meant. "And you're telling _me_ that I'm dirty minded!" Olaf yelled jokingly while throwing a package of tissues at the brightly grinning goalie. It missed him by an inch. The laughter caused by that action seemed to break the tenseness. Gunnar began to relax a bit and wiped a tear of laughter off his cheek.

"You wouldn't really go for the brunette, Olaf, would you?" Gustav Uberjavik asked. "Why not? Okay, she's probably a bit young but have you _seen_ her eyes? She's got fire." Gunnar knew all too well that Olaf meant every word he said. He liked strong women who defended their opinion and didn't give in at the very first blow.

"And you, Gunnar?" Leifur asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, you had a chance to test their goalie's fire."

"You mean Julie? What's the deal with her?"

"Did you like her? Who'd you pick: Julie or Connie? I mean if you had to pick." Gunnar glanced at Olaf who nodded in agreement.

"I respect girls who can sustain their position in a guy's team." He said slowly. "But I guess out of the two Ducks I like Julie better." He admitted half ways because Olaf kind of already picked Connie and half ways because he really preferred Julie.

"Do you like her that much that you'd just give the title to her?" Gunnar froze. Suddenly it was death silent in the locker room. You could have heard a needle fall to the ground.

"As much that you'd just…" He couldn't finish the sentence. A bang and a muffled 'Uff!' could be heard. Gunnar spun around and stared at his friend. Olaf had the unlucky teammate pressed against a locker, his arm placed exactly under his chin.

"Don't you ever dare to phrase, no, _think_ this thought ever again!" Olaf hissed.

"And what if… if he's right?"

Gunnar swallowed hard. How could they? How could they think that? They were friends, classmates, teammates. They all knew each other for god knows how long. All of them had experienced him on the ice - as teammates or opponents. He could say that he knew them all. And now _that_ was what they thought about him?

"That's what you think?" Olaf asked really, really silently and dead serious. Nobody dared to speak. He pushed Leifur away hard and looked at his teammates.

"You scum! Be happy that your ancestors were burnt, because if they weren't they'd turn over in their graves because of your behavior!" Gunnar stared at Olaf, his mouth dropped to the ground. Yes, Olaf sometimes let his temper get the upper hand, but that usually just happened on the ice and if he could be sure that none of his teammates was going to be injured. For Adam Banks the encounter with beasty Olaf didn't end well and now Olaf freed this monster in the locker room.

"I'm up for it so, which other problems do you guys have?" The blonde cracked his knuckles and let his eyes wander from one teammate to the other. None of them would have been stupid enough to start a fight with him at this very moment, though.

Gunnar knew Olaf's moods all too well and knew that now he wouldn't make a difference between friend and enemy. Sure enough the others knew that too and suddenly every single one seemed to have something really important to do. But Olaf wouldn't give in.

"Come on, you chicken!" Olaf growled. "I'm quite happy with the silver, just so you know. I won't blame that on Gunnar."

"But he missed…" Gustav threw in while steadily looking at the door where Wolf leaned against the door frame without any intention of joining in. Gunnar swallowed hard again, not knowing what to do. "It wasn't like I did it on purpose…" He whispered helplessly.

"Aye… Ragnar, you twerp! You were in there - our honored, second goalie. Why would you let so many shots in?" Olaf growled. His blue eyes sparkling with hate fixing his next victims. "And you two! Alexander and Solveig? You just let this figure skater pass by! Couldn't you stop that little princess? And you Leifur! It never would have depended on Gunnar if you scored. And why the heck would you feel like you had to help out the defense guys instead of helping us attack the Duck's goal? Were you afraid of the Bash Brothers?" Olaf lifted his gaze. "And even our Coach made mistakes." Gunnar stared at his friend unbelievingly.

The first thing he learned was: Never ever make Olaf angry.

The second thing: Never ever _in no circumstance_ make Wolf angry.

"The goalie change! That should have attracted your attention." Olaf's voice was calm and dead serious again. "So: Who's to blame for the loss?"

Silence.

Gunnar leered at Wolf. Mària now was in the locker room too. When did she get in here? She silently stood next to the ex NHL player and watched them with a tired smile on her lips.

"Is it even a _loss_?" She asked loudly. Everybody turned to stare at her baffled. "Do you have to be _ashamed_ of the silver medal?" Gunnar sighed with relief. If Mària was on his side, he didn't have to fear Wolf. The coach loved his half sister to death and wouldn't dare to do anything that'd cause her pain. If she argued for Gunnar, Wolf would agree with her, even if he didn't want to. There still was hope for the boy.

"I've asked myself the same question." Wulfgang, the team's calming influence, said while standing up. "I mean, guys, who in our country can say that they were that successful at an international level?"

Before Olaf began to talk, he faced every single one of them, his gaze resting on Gunnar during his following speech. "We aren't just some team, we're _friends._ We left Iceland together like our ancestors did a long time ago: as a group, a team, an unity. We drank together, laughed together, sang together. None of us ever thought about the _chance_ to get near the bronze medal. We all agreed that we'd just do it, didn't we? Who of you thought about _winning_ the day we entered the plane? Didn't we say it's just for us, just to know how it is outside of Iceland? A 'Just for Fun' trip? Silver's far from what we had expected. At home they're going to welcome us with joy and respect. None of us has to be _ashamed_. We were way better than we expected. Now, I'm asking you again: Who's to blame for that loss?" Gunnar stared at his hands. They were trembling.

"Which loss?" Björn shouted. With that, the ice was broken. Even though they _just_ made silver and he missed the shot that suddenly didn't matter anymore. They were a team. The "I" didn't exist anymore, just the "we".

Showering and getting changed was a lot more chaotic than it was in the recent days. Gunnar was sure that they already had passed the 15 minutes, but their coach didn't tell them to hurry. He just stood there leaned against the door frame watching them. Gunnar walked up to him slowly when he was dressed.

"Coach…? I'm sorry…" Gunnar stared at his feet. Even though they agreed on having _failed_ together, he felt guilty nonetheless. What would Wolf have to expect in Reykjavik? Trouble? A dismissal? He didn't know. Coach Stansson forced Gunnar's head up with his finger so the boy had to look into his eyes. "Chin up, Gunnar. Stand tall. Show them that they can't break us Icelanders that easily." He opened the door. "Make Iceland proud, boy."


	3. Chapter 3

Epilogue

The Icelandic team gleamed with pride at the evening of the award ceremony. Proud and with their heads held up high they let the crowd celebrate them. There was no disappointment nor any bitterness in their moves or gestures.

They received the silver medal with a smile and answered the reporter's questions detailed. Even the usually really silent Wolf Stansson and his half sister the beautiful Mària Helmudsdóttir said more than a few words. Even though they scraped past the gold, you could see that they were proud of their accomplishment. Good sportsmen, clearly.

It was a delightful evening and after a few demands Julie "The Cat" Gaffney and Gunnar Stahl Iceland's star player let the photographers take a few pictures of them.

The real event of the evening were Olaf Sanderson the Viking's Captain and Connie Moreau the Duck's number 18, though. The press was utterly enthusiastic because of the lasso incident and especially because of Connie's punch against Olaf's chest. To take a few pictures, Connie got off the little podium the Ducks were standing on, but fate wanted her to trip and fall onto the baffled Captain. For a moment their faces were just an inch away from one another. It didn't take Connie long to regain composure again and get off the Viking, but no photograph would pass that golden opportunity.

The next morning all three winning teams, gold silver and bronze, had brunch together. Like last evening, everything went quite casually. It seemed like with the pressure to win the glass ceiling between the teens somehow vanished over night.

The serenity was destroyed by a furious Guy Germaine who burst in on them, the daily news in his hand. He chucked it on the table in front of the puzzled Viking Captain a picture of Olaf's and Connie's faces on the front page. That alone wouldn't have been so bad, but the photograph showed the moment where Connie had tripped and fell onto the older male.

The light got changed a bit and someone had put a slight blush onto Connie's cheeks and everything looked quite different - more romantic - than it really was. The big headline **Romeo and Juliet of the Goodwill Games** didn't really make the whole situation any better.

While Dwayne Robertson literally choked on his bagel and Luis Mendoza just stared at the piece of paper, Olaf Sanderson began to read the article with growing concern in which the reporter described how he had seen the two of them "unhappily in love" at the rink a few times.

Because the Viking's Captain read said sentence out loud Connie Moreau got up inflamed with rage armed herself with a hockey stick and proclaimed that she now was going outside and beat up the first reporter she was going to run into so that this stupid nonsense wouldn't be spread any more.

The other Ducks of course wouldn't permit that to happen and tried to calm the Duck Lady down.

Witnesses - being the hotel's staff - reported that in this whole tumult, Olaf Sanderson ripped the article out of the paper and let said piece of paper disappear on the q. t. in his letterman's jacket.


End file.
